So, according to this associate of a co-worker of the wife, who lives in Central City, she knows a woman who lives in River Town who used to be my wife, and also has my 13-year old daughter.

Yeah. Really.

News to me.

Now, my wife (the real one, not the other one), through her job, has access to a lot of databases that even the IRS cannot access. So late this afternoon I get this email from her, titled "Your mistress?" And inside is the name of the woman she has best determined must be my supposed other wife.

Naturally, I run her name through all the usual internet search engines.

She's 14 years younger than me.

So when the wife finally comes home, we discuss "the other woman".

The wife has concluded this gal must be awfully easy to satisfy, since I only get to River Town maybe once a year.

Yeah, but you thought I was sleeping on a strutting ground, in the cab of a truck? Ha!

I point out how young this supposed other wife must have been when she and I apparently conceived our daughter. I must have been doing pretty good 14 years ago.

Hope I enjoyed it...

"Yeah, damn that Lipitor, huh?" she adds.

(For those of you too young to be aware of it, one "possible" side effect of Lipitor is memory loss. Now that she is also on it, the wife understands my frustration with that "side effect". Want to know what it is like to have a "minor stroke"? Every day? Try lipitor. We're ready to swear most "senior moments" are actually drug side effects, not symptoms of aging.)

Aaaanyway, we are now seriously wondering how many other people this woman in Central City has been telling about my apparent bigamist family.

And, thanks to the internet, I now have the phone number and address of the mother of my supposed daughter. No photos or Facebook, yet, though. Maybe next year, when I again pass through her town, I'll stop by.

And introduce myself.